


The Rose Garden on Lost Lake

by lea_hazel



Series: Decline and Fall [18]
Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Family Drama, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied Jealousy and Possessiveness, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Character Death, Presents, Spoilers, Week four spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-08-10 21:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: Verity travels to Lost Lake for the summer and meets Adalric's family.





	1. Glassmere on Lost Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The royal family summers on the verdant shores of Lost Lake. Verity makes a tentative friend.

Lost Lake marked the border between three Revairian territories, all of them rich and verdant, especially in early summer. The carriage ride along the great road was stifling, but once they entered Glassmere's territory, Queen Violetta consented to opening the windows and letting in some of the fresh, sweet-scented early summer air. Through the open window, Verity could see that the lands watered by Lost Lake were every bit as beautiful as promised.

"It's quite safe," Gisette sweetly reassured her.

"Yes," agreed the Queen. "Securing the great roads is difficult, but the Viscounts of Glassmere have always been our close allies. They would never allow harm to come to us on their roads."

"Are we staying the summer in Castle Glassmere, then?" asked Verity.

The Queen laughed lightly. "Not the whole summer, no. That would be an undue burden on our trusted allies, I should think."

"The other territories on the lake are Wendell and Merrotayne, if I remember right," said Verity.

"Perfectly," said Gisette. "You see, Mama, I told you her memory is remarkable."

"I remember every play in my grandmother's Onvu book," said Verity, apropos of nothing.

Gisette laughed pleasantly. "I must demand a rematch from you," she said, "on the first rainy day."

"You mustn't spend too much time indoors, girls," rebuked Violetta. "We'll be spending a month or so in each of the holdings surrounding the lake. I mean for you to get all the air and sunlight that summer in the countryside can afford."

"Yes, Mama," said Gisette, sounding somehow all the more arch for the honey-sweetness of her voice.

"Does it rain much hereabouts?" asked Verity.

"Not much, no," said the Queen. "We might expect some late spring rains before the harvest festival, and then perhaps a summer thunderstorm or two."

"The storms are quite a sight when they break over Lost Lake," said Gisette.

"You'll have all the drawing landscapes you like, dear," said Violetta, patting her hand with her own gloved one. "Don't you worry."

Not one of them spoke a word about the noble family that was to host them, excepting the Queen's reassurances of their extreme loyalty to the crown. Nothing about young Lord Tristan, and certainly nothing about Adalric Ajah, who had been Gisette's companion and attendant at the summit last year. The circumstances surrounding his entry into the royal siblings' inner circle were still largely obscure to Verity, and she had met young Tristan only twice in person. She knew nothing of his mother and sisters but their names.

Verity couldn't help but wonder how much Hyperion and Violetta knew about their children's actions on Vail Isle. Did they have any inkling that Adalric's death was Gisette's doing, even if not by her own hand? And if they did know, were they aware of her motivations for the murder? Verity flattered herself that she would have noticed a difference if the King, and especially the Queen, had been aware of Gisette's attempt on her own life. But if the subject of Adalric's mysterious warning had not come up, could they possibly believe his death was all due to an imprudent love match?

Briefly, Verity was almost grateful that she didn't herself fall in love at the summit. But she knew what Constance would say of that, let alone Penelope and Cordelia. The sentiment was beneath her. And it was all a matter of chance, anyway. She could no more induce herself to fall in love than Adalric could have prevented it.

At the gates of Castle Glassmere they were greeted by a veritable entourage of the estate's servants, headed by a grim-faced, gray-haired woman wearing a red wool kirtle and a taut smile. Verity instantly recognized her as the dowager Lady Elyssen Ajah. The strained expression on the elder woman's face tugged at her heart. She looked too old by a decade to be the mother of the young girl standing beside her, as if aged by her grief. She wished she could console her with what pale words she could think of, but knew that she mustn't. They must all pretend that all was well, that no one's loyalty was in question, and that Lord Adalric's murder was the mysterious act of an odd-minded servant, acting alone.

While the Queen accepted Lady Elyssen's profuse hospitality with a cool smile, Verity watched the little Lady Ajah struggling to hold a wobbly curtsy. She looked no older than eleven or twelve, small and thin, with sharply angled facial features and a mess of freckles. Her copper-red hair marked her as it had her elder brother, who, his mother assured them, would greet them appropriately at tonight's banquet.

Of course, a banquet meant dressing properly and conversing for hours between and around courses. Verity watched from the corner of her eye as the small army of servants disappeared their trunks into the large, elderly stone structure that made up the bulk of the estate. It was early enough yet that she might have time to see some of the grounds, before she was called to change for formal dining. She hoped some early refreshment might be waiting in the guest rooms, because she doubted very much that her appetite would keep in check until the night's main courses eventually arrived.

Lady Elyssen was a wise and thoughtful host. After apologizing on behalf of her daughters, she sent the younger one back to her lessons. Then she spent the remainder of the afternoon personally showing the Queen and Princesses through the castle's rose gardens. The tour concluded in a shady, elegantly carved arbor crawling with honeysuckle, where light refreshments and hot tea awaited.

"Your garden is marvelous, Lady Elyssen," said Verity earnestly, once the tea had been properly poured.

"You're too kind, child," replied Lady Elyssen, in a tone that Verity would have associated more with her decrepit great-aunt than with a woman who could be no older than forty five, by her estimation. Fifty at the most.

"Princess Verity has excellent manners, Lady Elyssen," said Gisette, with one of her tinkling, artificial little laughs.

"I do like to see a girl who's so polite," said the dowager primly. "Princess, you are welcome in my garden at any time."

"Thank you," said Verity. "I mean to make the best of the invitation."

"Do you mean to sit in the garden and draw all summer, sister?" asked Gisette. "You should show her ladyship your sketchbook, you know. Do you have it here?"

"It's packed in my trunk," answered Verity, " _sister_." She tilted her head towards the dowager and added, "Princess Gisette has promised to sit for me, and now she's trying to distract me with extravagant landscape views, so that she can escape the obligation of her promise."

Lady Elyssen actually laughed. Verity counted it as a small, but vital, victory.

"Well," she said, "you should take your sketchbook out to the point of the garden closest to the cape, down in the southwest corner. The view from there is quite -- how did you say it? -- _extravagant_."

But the sun was getting low over the lake, and only moments later a coterie of maids descended on the arbor to clear the tea service. Queen Violetta stood up with great dignity and sternly instructed the Princesses to run along and make themselves ready for dinner. Verity didn't turn her head as she and Gisette followed the path across the garden and back to the castle. She felt sure, though, that the Queen remained behind to discuss some piece of business with the dowager that she didn't wish ' _the children_ ' to overhear. She'd seen a very similar expression cross her own father's face all too many times.

Petra was waiting for her, unpacking her trunks with the help of one of the Glassmere maids. Stark white linen petticoats were spread everywhere, with pairs of stockings, rolled up into fist-sized lumps, lying here and there. She hadn't realized quite how many of either she had taken with her. Verity hated packing with a passion.

"Milady," said Petra, straightening. "We did not expect you so early. Are you here to dress for dinner?"

"Her Majesty sent us both up to dress," replied Verity. "I rather think we have a little time to spare, but it's best to be early and make a good impression."

"What would you like to wear, milady?" asked Petra.

"Did we end up packing the jade satin gown?" she wondered, distractedly, to herself. "I believe we did."

"I'll find it for you in a heartbeat, milady," piped up the Glassmere maid.

"Excellent," said Verity. "Then I'd better go and do something about my hair."

 

* * *

 

She did end up being ready for dinner ahead of time, after all, and she sat and pondered for a few moments what she might do with the spare time. It was not long enough to sink into a book, and she'd brought only a few with her, anyway. She still cherished hopes of finding something exciting in Castle Glassmere's library, which was reputed to have been the pride and joy of the current Viscount's great-grandfather. Sifting through her trinket box, looking for some pin or something to hold back the wispy curls that always escaped around her temples, she found a rolled up satin ribbon.

"Petra?" she asked. "When did we get this ribbon?"

"Peony brought it back from market," said Petra. "She meant it to match the stenciled silk shawl."

Verity made a face. "Now I remember why I passed her on. I felt rather bad about it, at the time."

She stashed the ribbon in her reticule and left the room with some determination. Glassmere was an old and venerable building, but the living quarters were not so large, even with the guest apartments. With a little help from some very gracious maids, she found her way to the door she was looking for and knocked.

She was patient, and eventually the door opened, although not all the way. A plump servant in a white apron stood in the doorway, with a quizzical expression on her round moon face. It seemed that the youngest Lady Ajah still kept her nurse. Perhaps her mother deemed her too young for a lady's maid.

The nurse curtsied. "How might I help Her Highness?"

"I came by to speak with Lady Francette," said Verity. "Rather, I came to offer her a small gift."

"Let her in, Dinah."

The murmur that came from the half-shut room was so soft that Verity could hardly make it out. The nurse, Dinah, stepped aside to let her through and curtsied again. Entering the room, she found the little Lady Francette was sitting at her tea table. She was dressed in a pretty, pale blue linen frock that livened her coppery hair. Her pale, narrow face, though, was pinched into a scowl.

She smoothed it hastily when Verity entered and popped up to her feet to curtsy.

"Your Highness," she said, her voice wobbling as much as her stockinged ankles.

Verity smiled what she hoped was a disarming smile. "Lady Francette," she said. "I am very pleased to make your acquaintance."

The little lady's reservoir of etiquette lessons seemed to have been exhausted by the simple exchange of greetings. She was far too young to have been to court, or the capital in general, and had probably not so much as seen her family's townhouse in Starfall City. And yet here she was, saddled with not one but two princesses in her house. On top of the recent loss of her elder brother, her condition must have seemed to her intolerable.

It took Verity all of two heartbeats to run this calculation through her head.

She cleared her throat. "I am very sorry for the loss of your brother, Lady Francette," she said. "I've conveyed my condolence to Lady Ajah, but have not had the chance to do the same for yourself or your sister."

"Thank you for your kind words, Your Highness," said the girl, the scripted response deflated by her hollow tones.

"I did not mean to come here to speak of your brother, however," replied Verity, hastily changing the subject. "I've a small gift for you."

Francette looked up, her pale blue eyes wide. "Oh!"

"Nothing grand, I'm afraid," said Verity. "It wouldn't do to show favoritism, of course. I found this in my trinket box, and it occurred to me that the color would much better suit your hair, rather than mine."

She opened the reticule and produced the roll of hair ribbon, holding it out for the girl to accept.

Francette hesitated, and shot a glance in the direction of her nurse.

The nurse, Dinah, nodded minutely. Her charge darted her eyes back to Verity, and slowly moved her hand to accept the ribbon.

"I'll wear it tomorrow," she promised.

"I would promise to speak to you again at dinner," said Verity, "but I don't imagine you'll be seated with the boring adults, just yet. Are there any girls your age living nearby?"

Francette shook her head. "I'm the youngest of the lake children, except for the old Duke's grandbabies. Oh!" She clapped a hand to her mouth. "I think the General's sister is visiting this summer, and she will have brought the nieces with her. The youngest is only two years older than me."

"I imagine I'll be introduced to them all in due time," said Verity with a sigh. "Perhaps tomorrow we can speak again, if you have an hour free from your lessons before dinnertime."

The girl gave another wobbly, gawky curtsy. "Thank you, Your Highness," she said. "You do me a great honor."


	2. The Lord Ajah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tristan and Verity's third meeting.

Her mood much lightened, Verity returned to the guest room where she was meant to wait for her escort to dinner. She had no idea what dining habits the dowager Elyssen kept in her home ordinarily, but hosting Queen Violetta was an obligation to hew to the strictest niceties and precedences. For a young lady, that meant arriving at dinner escorted by a gentleman. Most likely her darling husband, who performed this duty with a level of simmering resentment that threatened to match her own resentment in letting him into her room at all.

She was therefore very much surprised when, not ten minutes later, a civilized knock came on her door. Petra opened it to admit Lord Tristan, immaculately dressed for dinner and looking a mite less grave and careworn than he'd been when she saw him last, several months ago. He bowed to her gallantly and offered his hand.

"I'll be honest, Lord Tristan," she said. "I was expecting my husband, but this is not an unwelcome surprise at all."

"Likewise, Princess," he replied. "I have been looking forward to furthering our brief acquaintance, if Her Highness permits."

Verity smiled brightly. "It will be nice," she said, tilting her head slightly to create the suggestion of confidentiality, "to have a fresh conversational partner at dinner. My dear sister is bright and charming of course, but I believe I have heard everything she has to say twelve times, since midwinter."

"Your Highness has nothing to worry," said Tristan, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "My mother has plans to invite every worthy within riding distance to dine before the month is out. You won't want for company at dinner."

"Wonderful," she replied, still smiling. "Did I surmise correctly that one of the properties on the lake belongs to General Darius?"

"Indeed," said Tristan. "He has family visiting from the south, and I understand mother hopes to host them quite soon, so you should be given introduction."

They chatted comfortably all the way to the dining hall, and Verity was both pleased and relieved to find that she was seated next to the young Viscount for the meal itself.

 

* * *

 

Lord Tristan had the good sense, not to mention the good manners, not to make any mention of why she might prefer his company to her husband's. She neither needed nor desired Jarrod's conversation, and he felt much the same about her. Even at that moment, he was much more content confining himself to the conversation of men.

"Lord Tristan," said Verity, "I understand your youngest sister is still a child, but will your other sister be joining us tonight?"

"Merit?" asked Lord Tristan, surprised. "I didn't realize she had made your acquaintance, Your Highness."

"Only briefly, earlier today," answered Verity. "I had been hoping to perhaps make better acquaintance, though I suppose tomorrow morning is early enough for that." She smiled self-consciously.

"Merit is sixteen," said Tristan. "Under different circumstances, our mother might have considered introducing her to wider society by this point, but..." He hesitated. "She's quite shy, and studious. She prefers the company of her books, I think."

Verity opened her mouth to say something wise and grown-up, but was startled by the realization that young Lady Merit, who was considered too childish for mature society, was hardly three years her junior. Not that she didn't know her own age, but with the eventful year that she had had, sometimes she had to remind herself that she was not yet nineteen. Without meaning to, she had begun thinking of the unknown Ajah girls as younger sisters she could condescend to. She hadn't even bothered to ask whether the girls would welcome such attention from their Crown Princess, let alone given consideration to her own youth.

She fumbled to pick up the thread of conversation again, shifting clumsily to a safer subject of conversation. Like every Revairian gentleman she had met thus far, Lord Tristan was eager to go on at length about his stables and kennels and so on. He responded favorably to her occasional questions. If there was one thing Verity had been thoroughly trained in, it was appearing fascinated by whatever her dinner companion wanted to talk about, and animals were always a safe avenue of conversation.

"But you'll be able to see for yourself," he was saying, "if you join us tomorrow for a tour of the grounds."

"Oh!" said Verity. "I suppose I must, then. I've only seen the rose garden, so far."

"It's a beautiful garden, I agree," said Lord Tristan, with a dim smile, "but I admit I'm fonder of the outlying grounds."

"I suppose next you'll want to go out boating on the lake," said Verity.

"Could I convince you to join us on a boat ride, Your Highness?" asked Tristan.

"I'm afraid not, Lord Tristan," said Verity. "You're a very gracious host, but I'm comfortable with both feet planted on dry land. You'll simply have to content yourself with my husband's company."

"Ah, it is an outing for men, I imagine," said Lord Tristan. "At least in Arland. I flatter that the ladies of Revaire are a touch more daring."

"Indeed, I've found both the ladies and gentlemen of Revaire _quite_  daring," said Verity. "I have not quite caught up to your ways, although I have the whole summer before me to try."

"In late summer, there are sometimes thunderstorms that brew over the lake," said Tristan. "I would caution Your Highness not to wait too long to seek out your summer adventure. Otherwise, Lost Lake is beautiful whether by morning or evening."

"I mean to see it by both morning and evening light," said Verity, smiling, "but from a safe distance."


	3. The Ladies Ajah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verity attempts to befriend Tristan's younger sisters.

As good as her word, the next morning Verity joined Lord Tristan and several others for a tour of the estate grounds. Glassmere was rich ground, and the estate was run well. She could discern as much from the well-maintained roads and bridges, and the prosperous little farms that worked the fields of golden, ripening wheat. The sea of grain rippled under the light summer wind, and Verity hung back to catch the pretty views more than once. Every time she fell behind, Jarrod made the same irritating sound of impatience, a little click in the back of his throat. Gisette was more sensible, and found polite ways to prompt her to keep up.

Neither form of hastening left her feeling particularly compliant. All the same, she smiled prettily and apologized for keeping them, and wished she'd cast aside her good manners just once. She could have spent this morning pleasantly sitting in the estate gardens, filling her sketchbook with roses of every size and shape. Instead she could feel sweat trickling down her back under her day dress, and Gisette was giving her pointed looks over her fixed, icy smile. She'd even glimpsed the elusive young Ajah ladies, sitting in the garden with their tutor. The one bright point of her morning was that she was almost certain that Francette was wearing the ribbon she'd given her, bright green against her vivid red hair.

Lord Tristan was trying to catch her attention, though, so Verity ripped her wandering mind away from the charms of the rose garden and returned to the present.

"I did promise the Crown Princess I would show her the kennels," he said.

Jarrod scowled at this. Why, she had no notion.

"I did not," Lord Tristan braved on, over the Prince's abrupt and intimidating disapprobation, "I did not, however, expect to have something of interest to show. Luckily, fortune had better ideas, and one of our prize hounds has, just last night, given birth to a new litter."

Verity contained her excitement as best she could, but judging from Gisette's wry, judgmental smile, she did not do a very good job of it.

"I do like puppies," she said mildly.

"Even day-old, ugly, wrinkled little blind ones?" asked Gisette, clearly amused.

" _Not even_  a day old," corrected Verity. "As I understand, they're only a few hours into this world."

"That's right," said Tristan. "Should we go and see them?"

"I would very much like to," said Verity, glancing sidelong at Jarrod.

The latter threw up his arms with an aggrieved sigh and declared, "Lead us to the kennels, Lord Tristan."

She smiled radiantly and followed in Lord Tristan's wake, a skip in her step the whole way there.

The puppies were a squirming mass of damp pink noses and squinting, blind eyes, sleeping in a big pile around their mother. She was a beautiful black and brown scent hound with soft, floppy ears, and Lord Tristan proudly recited her extended pedigree to them all, which Verity mostly ignored. Gisette politely pretended to be interested, while Jarrod acted overtly bored. He didn't care for hunting with hounds, he told Lord Tristan, just as he'd enlightened his wife to, on more than one occasion.

 

* * *

 

"There will be tea waiting in the parlor in an hour, if you'd like to freshen up," said Lord Tristan, once he'd concluded their tour at the castle's entryway.

"We shall, Lord Tristan, how kind of you to offer," said Gisette and, grabbing Verity by the hand, towed her away into the great stone building, leaving the men behind.

"I can walk on my own, you know," said Verity, once they were out of earshot, " _sister_."

"Of course you can," agreed Gisette, and promptly dropped her hand like a hot coal.

"I realize the day's heat and the exertion have had their effect on me," said Verity, "but I did not think I was so unfresh as to merit immediate removal."

Gisette smiled sweetly and rounded on her at the foot of the great staircase, her eyes somehow blazing and icy cold at the same time. "You are not to accept any gifts from Lord Tristan."

"I'm not--"

"For some reason," the Princess cut her off immediately, "I cannot _fathom_  why, _dear_  Lord Tristan has taken a shine to you. Showing excessive interest in his damn mangy animals might have been the cause, I don't know and I don't care."

"I was only--"

"Shut up, Verity," said Princess Gisette, and for a moment she sounded exactly like her father.

It was a troubling thought.

Gisette grabbed her by the arm again and continued lecturing in undertone while she led her, rather forcefully, up the stairs and into the guest wing. The guest bedrooms all opened on a single shared sitting room, which was mercifully empty and quiet.

"Just shut up for one moment and listen to me," she went on, her tone only slightly softened. "He has not offered yet, I know, but he will. And you are not to accept any gift he might offer you, most _especially_  not an animal from his kennels."

"Is this some obscure Revairian courting ritual for making overtures to married women?" demanded Verity, suddenly unaccountably angry. "What, exactly, is the problem with my cultivating a simple friendship with a man of good breeding? There is not the _least_  thing improper about it."

Gisette raised an eyebrow. "Really? A woman married but six months, spending all her hours with a young, unmarried man?"

"I was hardly spending all my hours with him," said Verity. "I just thought he might need a friend. And you never answered my question."

Gisette sighed and pressed her flat palm to her forehead. Now she looked more like her mother.

"Just promise me, Verity," she said eventually, "that you will not accept anything from Tristan's hand."

Verity hesitated, but eventually said, "I won't."

"Your birthday is at the end of summer, isn't it?" said Gisette, more of a comment than a question.

"It is," she said. "What's that to do with anything?"

"If Lord Tristan wishes to gift you anything," the Princess explained with an exaggerated sigh, "most especially a puppy, he can relay the gift through the lady of the house, on your birthday celebration, which will be held at Wendrell near the end of summer. That's all."

"And that's all?" asked Verity. "Lady Ajah can give me gifts, but her son cannot? That is the great impropriety you thought I was about to commit?"

"Not an impropriety, Verity," said Gisette. "I just don't want you aggravating my brother unnecessarily."

Verity bit her tongue on the question of why Jarrod might be aggrieved at her fledgling friendship, and only asked, "May I got freshen up now?"

"Please do," said her dear sister-in-law, and wrinkled her nose daintily.

 

* * *

 

Tea was, indeed, waiting for them when they descended back to the parlor, and so were the younger ladies Ajah. This was Verity's first close encounter with Merit Ajah, and only her second with Francette. Both wore conservative frocks, summer-white with colored ribbon edging, making it very clear that the lady of the house considered her elder daughter still a child. Merit was tall and gangly, long-limbed, with mousy brown hair arranged in limp braids and big, watery eyes behind her spectacles. If there was beauty hidden in her, she rather strove to keep it hidden, but her gaze was bright and attentive, though her mouth turned down at the corners, as though always on the verge of frowning.

Both girls curtsied very properly when Gisette and Verity entered the room.

"Our mother will be joining shortly," said Merit. "She's in the garden, at the moment."

Verity would have liked to be in the garden, at the moment.

"Where Princess Verity wishes she could be, I believe," said Gisette with a sweet smile.

"How kind of you, sister, to keep my preference in mind," replied Verity. "I admit that what I saw of the garden yesterday impressed me greatly."

"Mother takes great pride in her roses," said Merit, the corners of her mouth turning even further down.

"I heard you were obliged to miss our tour of the grounds to appease your tutors, Lady Merit," said Verity.

"Yes, Your Highness," said Merit.

Francette pulled on her wrist, but Merit only tugged it back out of her hand and walked over to the daintily set tea table.

"Would Their Highnesses like to have a seat, please?" she offered.

"We ought to wait until the men join us, I think," said Verity.

"Quite right," said Merit, clasping her hands before her.

"I don't know what's keeping them, honestly," said Gisette. "I've never known my brother to refuse a meal."

"Will Lady Ajah be joining us for tea?" asked Verity.

"She's busy showing all the roads and bridges to Their Majesties, she said," said Francette, piping up suddenly. "I heard her say that she wouldn't be back but for a late supper, when she gave Millie the day off to go to the village and see her sweetheart."

Merit cuffed her shoulder. "You shouldn't eavesdrop, Frannie, it isn't ladylike."

But Verity turned to the young miss and thanked her politely. She wanted to tell her that eavesdropping was the only way to learn anything useful, but it seemed imprudent to bring up in the hearing of their respective sisters.

"My dear, how delightful!" said Gisette, clapping her hands together. "That means that as the only married lady, you have precedence. I _do_  hope you enjoy pouring tea."

Verity smiled her sweetest Arland Princess smile, "How could I not be delighted to pour tea for such exalted company?"

Gisette laughed lightly.

"What nonsense are you two talking about, this time?" came a voice from behind them.

Verity turned carefully, with an airy swirl of her light afternoon dress, a waft of floral embroidery and citrus perfume. Jarrod and Tristan were standing at the wide, double doorway of the dining room. Tristan was smiling slightly, though the smile didn't reach his eyes, which skirted over her to catch and hold Merit's. Jarrod was scowling, as usual, but at least he hadn't stomped into the room with great thundering footsteps, like an elephant.

She pasted on a careful smile and turned back to Merit and Francette. "There, now that the gentlemen have joined us, let's all sit down and I can pour the tea. I'm sure everyone is hungry."

"Famished," said Jarrod, and threw himself bodily into one of the elegant cushioned chairs.

Gisette shrugged and took the seat next to his, more daintily.

Tristan, unsurprisingly, did a much better job of drawing out his sisters' conversation than Verity herself had done. Merit proved to be as bright and engaging as she'd first guessed, once her nerves and self-consciousness had abated, somewhat. Her brother's tactic for achieving this seemed to be to infuriate her with obviously false statements, particularly on subjects she'd recently been instructed on. She had an interest in ancient Revairian history, which her mother had chosen to indulge, and Verity learned more about imperial Revaire in an afternoon than she had in all her previous history lessons combined.

Verity managed to preside over the affair with all the dignity and grace she could muster, not spilling a drop of tea, and even braving her dear husband's loudly grumbling belly. She did, however, struggle not to burst into laughter when she realized that young Francette was watching her every move avidly, occasionally trying to copy her gestures and mannerisms. Just as she was preparing to call to a halt, Tristan caught her eye and smiled very slightly. He had seen it, too.


	4. The Rose Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verity and Lady Ajah have an uninterrupted conversation, for once.

"I wanted to thank you for being so kind to my daughters," said Lady Elyssen.

They were sitting together in the rose garden, looking out over Lost Lake, protected from the midday sun by the climbing ivy clinging to the posts of a wooden arbor. After several eventful days in a row, Verity had finally gotten a morning to herself to sit quietly in the garden with her sketchbook. It was a short enough interval of peace, but she didn't mind sharing it with Lady Elyssen, who had been so unfailingly kind to her.

"Think nothing of it," said Verity graciously. "I was only doing what anyone would."

Elyssen quirked a crooked little smile. "I think, Princess Verity, that you must know that to be false. Not in Revaire, at any rate."

She was right, but Verity didn't like to admit it. For one thing, it was inexcusably rude.

She waved an airy hand. "Your daughters are delightful, Lady Elyssen," she said. "They make charming company for ladies of any age. I'm certain they'll do well, when they are ready to be introduced."

"For now, I'm afraid they must be confined to the company of the neighborhood," said Elyssen. "The General's nieces, and some others. The last year has not been easy for them. Seeing some fresh faces, and one so friendly as yours, has raised their spirits some. I almost feel--"

"I'm very sorry for the loss of your son, Lady Ajah," Verity interjected hastily.

There was no one about to scandalize, nor even any servants to overhear and pass on the gossip. She kept her voice soft, all the same. The affair of Lord Adalric's murder was only too fresh in her mind, and she knew her new family would not welcome her discussing the matter so openly.

Lady Ajah accepted the condolences with a tight smile, her face drawn taut over its bones, and her eyes over-bright.

"Losing Effrehm and then Adalric so shortly after was-- trying," said Lady Ajah, struggling to maintain her composure, "but I know in my heart that Tristan will do us proud."

"I'm certain he will, Lady Ajah," said Verity.

She drew in a slow, quiet, controlled breath, and exhaled it just as slowly, trying not to disturb the hazy summer air. The sketchbook lay forgotten by her side, open to an unfinished scene of sailboats on the lake. Lady Ajah's eyes were huge and damp. Perversely, the brightness of held-back tears made her look younger, tearing away some of the world-weary weight that had shadowed her face when they first met. Verity drew in another careful breath, and carefully stood up.

"If you'll excuse me, Lady Ajah, I really must find Princess Gisette," she said. "I promised I would take her portrait today, and I must always keep my promises."

She gathered herself enough to nod curtly at her, and Verity accepted the dismissal, so bare as to almost be rude. She took herself away as swiftly as she reasonably could, holding her skirts in both hands and ignoring the beating afternoon sunlight. With her back straight she walked away, focusing her ears on the buzzing of the many insects who were enjoying the garden's flowers. Behind her she could hear a muffled sob, but she studiously ignored it. Once she turned a corner and was out of sight, she picked up her feet and all but ran to her room. If she dwelt on the matter, she would surely start crying herself, and that was simply out of the question.

 

* * *

 

Once she had composed herself, Verity exited the bedroom, meaning to settle in the shared area with the pot of tea she had sent for and a good book. There were still a few quiet hours left in the afternoon, and she was determined to make the most of them before she was called upon to be social. She was more than a little unsettled, then, to find Jarrod slouching listlessly in one of the plush chairs. It was quite honestly the last place she would have expected to see him.

"I thought you had gone riding with Lord Tristan," she said casually as she settled herself into the chair opposite his.

"He was called away on business," said Jarrod moodily. "Something to do with one of his blasted sisters."

"I called for tea," she replied.

"Tea would be nice," he said.

His reluctance to admit as much was painfully obvious.

Verity couldn't resist one small jab. "I would have invited you to tea back on the isle, if I'd known you like it so much."

His expression was as horrified as she could have possibly hoped for. Before he could launch into a tirade about silly ladies' tea parties and how dismally boring they were, a maid arrived with a laden tray. Verity assumed her most serenely dutiful facade and poured out two cups with precision and grace, liberally adding honey to her own cup. She blew on the amber liquid to cool it before taking a tiny, delicate sip.

Jarrod watched all this with a vaguely disgruntled expression.

"I think it's very admirable of Lord Tristan to take such good care of his sisters," she said, by way of an opening.

She did not really have high hopes for the afternoon's conversation, and her disappointment was not disappointed.

"You drink your tea far too sweet," complained Jarrod.

"Good thing I'm the one drinking it, then," said Verity, "and not you."

He frowned at this, and immediately tried to drain his teacup in one long gulp.

"Oh dear," said Verity, her eyebrows drawing in a frown of false concern. "I hope you didn't burn your tongue."

"Why do you like Tristan so much, anyway?" he demanded, by way of a deflection.

"He's kind and honorable," said Verity immediately. "You should get to know him better, I think. He would make you a very loyal friend, unlike some of the miscreants you spend your time with."

"Miscreants?" demanded Jarrod, his voice starting to rise.

She was a little surprised that he should recognize the word.

"Like Lord Benedict," she replied calmly. "You fight with him constantly. I can't imagine you would argue with Tristan half as often. He has such an even temper. And like I said, he's been nothing but kind to all of us."

"I don't fight with Benedict so much," he retorted sulkily, "and what's so impressive about kindness, anyway?"

"And unfailingly loyal," Verity reminded him.

He grumbled something inaudible.

"You dueled with Benedict a week before we rode out to the lake," she reminded him again. "Did you think I didn't know about that? I assure you, Roxana made certain that I did."

"I only fought him that time because--" Jarrod started to say, and fell abruptly silent.

Verity sighed softly. "Because he called me a ' _sunburnt heifer_ '," she said. "Yes, I heard about that, too."

He had the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. "I made him pay for it, though," he mumbled. "He'll never talk like that about you again."

"I think," said Verity, "that Tristan never would have talked about me, or _any_  lady, that way to begin with."

He mumbled something else, clearly not intended for her ears.

"At least think about it," she said, rising from her chair and shaking out her skirts. "Please."

Jarrod made no reply, and she retreated quietly to her room, book in hand.

 


End file.
